Quantifying Desire
by jlm110108
Summary: What would happen if Charlie decided to take drastic action after his dad started dating Millie?


Prologue: Charlie and Amita stand, watching as Alan and Millie leave to see the new James Bond movie. Charlie mutters in disbelief, "Millie."

Amita says, "Yep. Millie. Just think. She could be your boss and your stepmom."

Charlie chuckles nervously and looks like he's about to cry.

Amita had managed to wash that disturbing image from his mind as they snuggled on the couch later that night. But when he awoke in the morning, the image was back in full force. Millie. His stepmother. He stumbled from bed, threw on his clothes and headed down the stairs. The garage. He needed to think. There had to be some way...

"Good morning!" Alan called from the kitchen. "You ready for some breakfast?"

Charlie shook his head. He couldn't believe how cheerful his father sounded. "No, thanks. I'm not hungry." He didn't add that his lack of appetite was all his father's fault.

"Where are you going?"

"The garage. I have something I need to work on."

"Something for Don?"

"No. Something for me."

Alan came around the corner, carrying a cup of coffee. "You sure you don't want to take a few minutes for breakfast? At least have a cup of coffee."

Charlie tapped his temple, "I've got this ... this... thing going on up here, and I need to write it down before it evaporates. I'll have something to eat later." He hurried into the garage, closing the door behind him before his father could object.

He found a blackboard full of calculations for an already solved case and wiped it clean. There had to be a mathematical solution for his dilemma. There was a mathematical solution to everything. He tapped on the blackboard as he decided on his variables. Alpha for Alan – lower case because the upper case was too easily recognizable. Lower case mu for Millie. Okay if either of them saw this, they'd probably see right through it, but he had to get this down while it was fresh in his mind.

He knew Alan and Millie enjoyed each other's company. He had to isolate those aspects of their personalities that brought them together and those aspects that could drive them apart. Then he had to find at least one other variable: a woman who would be better suited to his father. Someone who would be a better match for him than Millie.

Who did he know who was his father's age and unattached? He tapped the chalk on the blackboard as he thought. Eva. Eva Salter. Eva with her tie dyed blouses and blue jeans and distrust of feds. She had been Finn Montgomery's thesis adviser. Finn, the engineering student who had committed suicide. His dad, with his city planning background, would have a lot in common with the engineering professor. They were about the same age, and had similar personalities. Yes, she would be perfect. He scribbled a lower case epsilon on the board and began assigning values to different personality traits. He x'ed out the mu and the attributes below it, and drew an arrow from the alpha to the epsilon.

He let his mind drift, until it landed on Matty Stirling's widow Hester. The bombing case that led to a group of aging Vietnam War era protesters – a group Charlie's parents had been involved with. When they discovered Matty's body, Hester's daughter Laura had invited Charlie and Alan to the funeral. He hadn't noticed any chemistry between his father and Hester, but, then again, it was her husband's funeral. He scribbled a lower case eta on the board. He knew next to nothing about Hester, but he heavily weighted their past connection.

Making a mental note to become more acquainted with the older female professors at Cal Sci, Charlie tried to call to mind a few of their names. Sally Finnegan... married. At least he thought he had met her husband at a reception. Christine Ford... no good. She was openly lesbian. Debra Llewellyn. He nodded and added a delta to the board.

He tried to think of other women in the right age category. FBI agents or LAPD officers would be too young. Alan was beyond their mandatory retirement age. How about Assistant District Attorneys, or Assistant US Attorneys. The only ones he knew were too young. He'd have to ask Don if he knew any who were the right age.

There wasn't enough data. Charlie sighed. There was never enough data to keep him happy. Until he could do more research, this would have to do. He started coming up with attributes, weighting them according to their importance, and working up an algorithm.

He had filled one board and started on a second, and was humming to himself when someone came up behind him. Startled, he turned around and found himself facing Amita. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. "Hi," she breathed.

"Hi," he murmured, kissing her gently.

"What are you working on?" She studied the boards for a few moment. "I don't understand your variables."

"Good. If you don't, maybe Mildred won't either."

"Mildred? Why?" Charlie pointed at the column labeled mu. Amita glanced at the other variables. "Alpha is Alan. Mu is Mildred. I see you've crossed her out already. Who are the others?"

Charlie glanced at the door and lowered his voice. "Remember what you said last night about Mildred becoming my stepmom? Well, I am trying to find someone more suited to my dad. If I can find that someone, and introduce the two of them, there may still be hope."

Amita laughed. "That explains why you were humming 'Matchmaker, Matchmaker, make me a match...'" She tapped on the board. "But this is crazy. You can't predict love mathematically."

"Sure you can. Well, not exactly predict love, but you can isolate the characteristics that attract one person to another. You can quantify desire. And that's what I'm doing here. I am going to find a woman who is more suited to my dad than Millie. And I am going to introduce that woman to my dad and let nature take its course."

Amita shook her head. "I can see I'm not going to convince you." She stopped and stared at him. "You didn't select me mathematically, did you? Quantify desire?"

"No! Of course not. I was attracted to you the moment I met you. I didn't need to run the numbers."

"Good answer, Professor," Amita said. She tilted her head and studied the board more carefully.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if I could use this to make sure you're the right one for me."

"What? Amita!" Charlie sputtered. "You don't have any doubts, do you?"

Amita shrugged and walked toward the door. "I didn't think so, but I think you're really on to something."

Charlie dropped the chalk onto the blackboard tray and followed her. "Amita! Tell me you're kidding!"

Amita turned and faced him, grinning. "Gotcha!" She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close. "There's more to romance than numbers, Charlie." She kissed him and then pulled back. "Tell me what value you'd assign to that variable, Professor."

"Infinity," he murmured as he leaned forward and kissed her. "So what would you do to find someone other than Millie for my dad?"

She shrugged. "I'd just let nature take its course, Charlie. You can't interfere with something as... as sacred as the bond between a man and a woman. Assigning numerical values to that relationship somehow cheapens it."

Charlie sighed and turned to face the blackboards. "I don't know what else to do, Amita. I cannot have Millie as ... as ..."

"... a stepmom?"

Charlie shuddered. "I can't even bring myself to say the word. I'm desperate, Amita. There has to be some way I can prevent that from happening without ruining my dad's chances for happiness."

"Why don't you just try the old fashioned way? Set him up with a blind date." She waved a hand in the direction of the boards. "Invite some of your variables over to dinner. Make up some excuse. You've become quite a cook. Grill them some nice steaks, sit them down with your dad and wait for the reaction."

Charlie nodded. "At the very least it would give me more data for my algorithm."

Eva Salter leaned back in her chair and looked up at Charlie. "Come in, Charlie," she said, smiling. "What brings you from the rarefied air of applied mathematics to the mundane world of structural engineering? Are you dealing with some construction issues, or perhaps a body buried in a foundation?"

"Nothing like that, Eva. I just stopped by to invite you to a cookout at my house."

"Why?"

This was clearly going to be harder than he expected. "Well, you know my mother passed away a few years ago, and my dad is getting back into the dating scene again, so I thought I'd introduce him to a few women I know ..."

Eva threw back her head and guffawed. "Charlie! Does your dad know you're setting him up like this?"

Charlie shook his head. "He'd never go along with it."

"So what are you telling him? And who else are you inviting? Are you planning on parading a dozen eligible bachelorettes in front of him? Have a seat. I can't wait to hear your plan."

Charlie sighed as he sat.

"You haven't thought this through, have you?"

"Not really. I narrowed the list down to you and three others. I thought if I introduced you to my dad in casual circumstances, there wouldn't be the pressure of a blind date."

"Do I know any of your other victims? Have any of them agreed to this silliness yet?"

"You're the first one I've actually invited. I'm going to invite Debra Llewellyn. You know her, right?"

"Yes, I do. She's in the astronomy department. Who else?"

"Hester Stirling. She and her late husband were active in the antiwar movement in the sixties and seventies with my parents."

Eva nodded. "That sounds promising. Who else?"

"My brother..."

"... the Fed..."

"Right. He suggested one of the AUSAs, a Brenda McMillen. She's the right age, widowed, right personality."

"You figured this out mathematically, didn't you?" Eva chuckled. "No chemistry, just math, right, professor?"

"You sound like Amita. She doesn't see the value in my analysis either."

"Oh, I didn't say I didn't see the value in it. I just wonder if you're leaving out an important aspect of your calculations." She leaned forward. "I wouldn't miss this experiment for the world, Charlie. Afterwards, would you show me your calculations? Maybe you can publish your findings."

"I don't know about publishing. But I'll definitely show you my calculations."

"One thing, Charlie. I suggest you don't tell the other women or your father exactly what's going on."

"What should I tell them?"

"I don't know. You know anybody who's into those touchy-feely soft sciences?"

Fortunately, Charlie knew exactly who could help him. "Megan," he said as he entered the bullpen.

"Charlie, hi. Are you looking for Don? I think he's..."

"No, actually, I need to pick your brain."

"Have a seat and tell me what's up."

Charlie pulled a chair over to Megan's desk. "Okay, here's the problem. My dad is dating my boss, which is clearly an unacceptable situation..."

"Why?"

"Well, neither one of them has considered how difficult this situation is for me. Amita pointed out that it is entirely possible that Millie could become my stepmother. I'm having a hard enough time with her as my boss. She's overbearing, she doesn't respect my consulting work, she assigns me to committees after I tell her I don't have time..."

"And yet your father clearly likes her."

"Well, yes, he does. But ..."

"Charlie. He's an adult. He can make his own choices. And he doesn't have to consult you."

"I know. But I'm hoping to find someone better for him. I'm arranging for four women to come over for a cookout to meet my dad. One of them has already agreed..."

Megan laughed. "You didn't! Charlie! What were you thinking?"

Charlie sighed and stood up. "I'm sorry to waste your time, Megan. I'll see you..."

"Charlie. Sit down. What did you want from me?"

Charlie sat. "I was hoping you'd give me an idea of how to tell dad and the other three ladies about the cookout."

"Okay. Do you want him to know that these women are potential dates? Or are you trying to keep the plot a secret from him?"

"The plot. You make it sound so... so devious."

"What other word would you use for it? You're trying to undermine a developing relationship for your own purposes." She stopped as Charlie started to get up. "Sit. Stay. Are you going to tell your dad the objective of this cookout?"

"I'd rather not. I thought I'd make up some excuse, but Dad's pretty sharp. I need an excuse he won't see through. With your background in psychology I thought you could help me." He bit his lip and looked hopefully at Megan.

She laughed. "Aw, Charlie, you've got the sad puppy eyes look down pat. All right. Let's see what we can come up with."

On the way home, Charlie called Eva Salter and explained the plan to her. She agreed to call the other three women, leaving Charlie to deal with his dad.

"Hey, Dad," Charlie said, hanging his jacket on the hook next to the front door.

"Hi, Charlie," Alan's voice came from up the stairs. "I'm in the solarium."

Charlie took the stairs two at a time. His dad sat next to the window, drinking coffee and looking down at the koi pond. He looked up and smiled at Charlie. "What's up?"

"Well, I got roped into hosting a women's group."

"A women's group? What kind of women's group?"

Charlie sighed and sank into the chair next to Alan's chair. "Four women, two are professors at Cal Sci, one is an AUSA, and the fourth,... well, you know the fourth woman. It's Hester Stirling. Anyway, they're starting some kind of charity thing to help refugees from war zones. I heard the two professors talking about it, and, well, I ended up volunteering to host a cookout for their kickoff meeting."

"A cookout?"

"Yeah, a cookout. I figured I could handle that. Besides the ladies, I invited Larry and Megan and Amita. Don may show up if he's not too busy, and I figured I'd invite you to join us."

"And help with the cooking?"

"Only if you want to. Like I said, it's going to be a cookout. Nothing complicated. Very casual."

"And when is this event?"

"Wednesday night."

"Is it all right if I invite Millie?"

"She's going to be hosting a seminar. But I think you'll be able to find something to talk about with the other guests. You always do. And you already know Mrs. Stirling."

"All right. I'll join you for your little soiree. And I'll make potato salad."

"Thanks, Dad."

Wednesday turned out to be a beautiful day, even by Pasadena standards. Charlie had canceled his afternoon office hours so he could make sure everything was perfect. When he got home, he noticed that Alan was already bustling around the kitchen.

"Dad, hi. What are you doing?"

"Well, Charlie, I finished the salad, so I thought I'd get started on a dessert. I thought a lemon meringue pie would hit the spot."

"Wow, yeah, that would be perfect. Thanks, Dad. But you don't have to do all this..."

"We've got to make a good impression on your ladies, Charlie."

"Uh. What do you mean?"

"Well, you're hosting this shindig, and I assume you want it to go well. It sounds like they're planning on doing a very good thing for these refugees, and I want to do all I can to help."

"Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate that, and I know the ladies will appreciate it too. What do you need me to do?"

"Why don't you start marinating the chicken breasts? I know you're making steak, but in my experience, women tend to prefer chicken, so I took the liberty of making a slight addition to your menu. You don't mind, do you?"

"I don't mind at all. The chicken is a great idea." Charlie opened his mother's recipe box, pulled out the card with her chicken marinade recipe on it, and started collecting the ingredients.

"You know, Charlie, I've been wondering. I understand how the two professors got together for this charity thing, but how on earth did they meet Hester Stirling and an AUSA? And what made them settle on this particular charity?"

"Well, to be honest, I introduced Mrs. Stirling and Brenda McMillen to Eva and Debra. I thought they'd fit in. The charity, well, that was kind of a group decision." Charlie sighed. "I think I'll go make sure there's enough gas for the grill. I'll be right back."

The tank was full. He knew it was full because he had checked it the day before. He just needed to get out of the kitchen for a while. He hadn't expected to feel so guilty about lying to his father.

For the first time he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Millie drove him crazy, but it was clear that his dad enjoyed being with her. Four quick phone calls, and he could call the whole thing off. He would have to come clean with his dad, but he'd done stupid things before and his dad had forgiven him. Running his fingers through his hair, he sat heavily on a bench next to the grill. After a few moments he was on the verge of admitting his deception to his dad. But he envisioned a wedding. His dad beaming as Millie walked down the aisle. Millie standing next to Alan, and smiling sweetly at Charlie as she said, "Son!"

The end may not always justify the means, but this time it was going to have to. With renewed resolve, Charlie returned to the kitchen.

Alan was just taking the pie out of the oven when Larry, Megan and Amita arrived. "Ooh," Megan said, "lemon meringue? I haven't had that in years."

Amita walked up behind Charlie and put her arms around his waist. "Shouldn't you be wearing an apron?"

He turned, using a towel to wipe marinade from his hands and gave Amita a kiss. "I'm going to change before our guests arrive."

"Guests? What are we? Chopped liver?" She said with a grin.

"Of course not," Alan said smoothly. "He's just referring to the charity committee. Aren't you, Charlie?"

"Right. That's what I meant."

"Charles? I never thought of you as a chef," Larry said. "What is it you're making?"

"Chicken breasts," Charlie said. "White meat, Larry. And steak. Dad made potato salad and I figured I'd toss together a green salad."

"It sounds delightful. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"You could slice some onions and peppers while I go change."

Charlie had just put the chicken on the grill when the doorbell rang. "Dad, can you get that? I'll be there in a second."

"All right," Alan said, heading for the door. "Good evening," he greeted the two women who stood at the door. "I'm Charlie's dad, Alan. Please come in."

"Hi, Alan," one of the women said, "I'm Eva Salter, and this is Debra Llewellyn. Charlie tells me you're an engineer."

"Yes, I am. And he tells me you're an engineering professor, Dr. Salter. And, Dr. Llewellyn, I understand you're an astronomy professor."

"That's right. And, please call me Debra."

"Charlie's out back at the grill. Can I get you ladies something to drink? We've got a very nice zinfandel wine, beer, soda..."

"Zinfandel sounds good to me, Alan," Debra said.

"I'll have a beer," Eva said. "Thanks, Alan."

"Wow," Debra said as Alan led them to the kitchen. "You have a beautiful house."

"Thank you. But it's Charlie's house now. He bought it from me a couple of years ago."

"It's a craftsman, isn't it?" Eva asked. "Now I see where Charlie's brother gets his appreciation of architecture."

"Hmm?" Alan said as he handed Eva a mug of beer. "What do you mean?"

"When he was investigating Finn Montgomery's suicide, we had a brief discussion about Gar Haybridge's architecture."

"Ah," Alan said, "I'm afraid he hasn't mentioned that particular interest to me before. Shall we go out and see how Charlie is doing?"

"Eva, Debra, hi!" Charlie as they entered the back yard. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Charlie," Debra said, "I didn't know you could cook."

Eva laughed, "Don't you remember his chocolate chip cookies?"

"Oh, that's right," Debra said. "Amita, you thought they didn't have enough chocolate chips, if I remember right."

"They didn't," Amita said. "Men never use enough chocolate."

The doorbell rang again. "I'll get it," Charlie said. "Amita, can you keep an eye on the chicken?"

"You stay, Charlie," Alan said, "I'll get it."

Hester Stirling and another woman stood at the door this time. "Hester," Alan said, "It's great to see you again. How have you and Laura been doing?"

"We've been fine, thank you, Alan. Oh, have you met Brenda McMillen?"

"No, I haven't. Hello, Brenda. Let's get you two some drinks, and then we'll join the others in the back yard. I believe Charlie's almost done with the chicken."

As they walked to the kitchen, Hester said, "Brenda, Alan and his late wife were involved in some political action groups with my late husband and me. Matty, my husband, disappeared in 1971 after the bombing at the ROTC. He immediately became a suspect. Well, Charlie's brother Don is an FBI agent, and they were able to find Matty's body last year and clear his name. Because of them, my daughter and I were finally able to lay poor Matty to rest."

"That's amazing," Brenda said. "I've worked with Don and Charlie on a couple of cases, and they are both wonderful young men. I've never had the pleasure of meeting Alan before today," she said, smiling at Alan. "What's the saying? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree?"

"Ahh," Alan said, "why don't we see how Charlie's doing with supper?"

"Hester, Brenda," Charlie said as they entered the back yard. "It's great to see you two again. I see Dad hooked you up with drinks. Are you ready for food?"

"Sounds great, Charlie," Hester said. "What are you cooking?"

"Chicken breasts are just about ready. I've been waiting until everyone got here before putting the steaks on."

"Ooh," Debra said, "What kind of steaks?"

"Delmonico," Charlie said, holding up a platter full of raw steaks.

"Very nice," Eva said. "I'd like mine medium rare, please."

"Medium for me," Debra said.

"I'd like rare," Brenda said.

Charlie laughed, "Gee, Dad, what were you saying about ladies liking chicken?"

"I'll have chicken," Hester said, laughing.

"Me too," Amita added.

"See," Alan said, "I was right."

"I think they are just feeling sorry for you. Where are Larry and Megan?"

"Contemplating the koi pond," Amita said, pointing to where the couple sat. Larry's arm was around Megan's shoulders, and they were talking and laughing quietly.

"Hey, Lawrence!" Charlie called. "Megan! You two want steak or chicken?"

Alan shook his head. "That's my son. Always the perfect host. Charlie, it's rude to yell."

"Sorry, Dad." Charlie put down his utensils and walked over to where Megan and Larry sat. He made a slight bow. "Dr. Fleinhardt, Special Agent Reeves, would either of you care for steak this evening?"

Alan shook his head, "Charlie, sarcasm is no more becoming than yelling." He turned to the ladies. "Kids these days!"

Charlie subtly maneuvered everyone so Alan was sitting near the four ladies. Charlie and Amita sat where Charlie could unobtrusively watch them. He hoped Eva had done a good job of selling the charity idea to the other ladies. He knew the other four victims were smart, and if one of them figured out what he was up to, the evening would go up in smoke fairly quickly.

Hester laughed at something Alan had said, and Brenda leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Charlie nudged Amita and smiled as he nodded toward Alan. "It's looking good," he murmured.

"I don't know, Charlie. Look at your dad's face. He's being polite, but I'm not seeing a spark."

"Spark?"

"You know? The way he looks when he's with Millie?"

Charlie's appetite evaporated as he sighed. "So you're thinking it's hopeless?"

"No, Charlie, not hopeless. It's early yet. Why don't you ask Megan what she thinks? She's good at reading people."

"Good idea." Charlie stood and walked to where Larry and Megan sat. He leaned down and whispered to Megan, "Mind if I pick your brain for a moment?"

"No problem, Charlie. I've picked your brain often enough. What do you need?"

"How do you think my dad's getting along with the ladies?"

Megan gazed at Alan for a few moments. "I don't know. They're getting along all right. But looking at your dad, I don't see..."

"A spark? That's what Amita called it."

"That would be a good description, Charlie. I'm sorry, but I think she's right. Of course, I haven't seen your dad with your boss, so I don't know if there's a spark there."

"Oh, there is a spark there. A definite spark." Charlie rested his hand on Megan's shoulder. "Thanks for your expert opinion," he said, grinning wryly.

"I'll send you my bill," Megan said, laughing.

"What? Supper isn't payment enough?" Charlie chuckled as he went back to sit with Amita.

"Well?" Amita said as he sat back down. "Did she see a spark?"

"Nope. Not even a twinkle. Looks like it's back to the drawing board.

Alan's cell phone rang. He looked at the screen, excused himself, and walked back toward the house. Charlie couldn't hear the conversation, but he could see his dad smiling and talking animatedly.

Amita nudged him. "There's the spark," she murmured. "I wonder who he's talking to."

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "She was supposed to be hosting a seminar."

"She must be on break."

Alan closed his cell phone and came back to the table, smiling broadly. "Charlie," he said, "Millie's on her way. The seminar finished up earlier than she expected."

"Wonderful," Charlie murmured.

"Yes, it is. Keep the grill going. She'll be over in about half an hour."

Charlie sighed. "Okay."

"The ladies are going to have their little get together about that charity. We can get started on cleaning up until Millie gets here." When Charlie hesitated, Alan said, "Of course, you are the host of this little shindig. I'm just another guest."

The veiled threat had its desired effect. With a groan, Charlie stood and started picking up dishes.

Alan went back to the ladies. "Did anyone leave room for lemon meringue pie? Or would you rather wait until after your meeting?"

The ladies agreed it was best to wait until later. They did accept Alan's offer of coffee. With Amita, Larry and Megan to help, Charlie was able to get everything cleared up before Millie arrived. Alan set two places at the dining room table so he could sit with Millie as she ate her late dinner.

As Charlie put away the last of the dishes, Amita gestured toward the garage, "Well, Professor, back to the drawing board?"

"There must be something I'm missing." He glance up at Amita. "You think this is funny, don't you?"

"Well..."

Larry said, "Charles, Amita and Megan filled me in on your project. I thought perhaps I could offer some insights that might prove useful."

Charlie shrugged. "Well, it can't be any worse than what I've come up with so far. Let's give it a try." He led the way to the garage.

Larry studied the blackboard, rubbing his chin. "You know, Charles, you're working with a very small data set here. Aren't you the one who's always saying you need..."

"... more data," Charlie finished for him. "But this is a completely different application. We're not looking for a suspect..."

He heard a gasp behind him, and turned to see Millie standing in the doorway. From her expression it was clear that she understood the purpose of Charlie's calculations.

"Mildred!" Charlie said, moving to block her view of the blackboard. "How nice to see you again."

"Is it, Charlie? Is it really?" She strode into the room and picked up a piece of chalk. She circled the alpha and mu. "So. You've crossed me out already. I know we haven't exactly hit it off well, but isn't this a little extreme?"

"Uh... I ...," Charlie stammered. "I was just interested in seeing if I could quantify desire in humans."

Millie laughed. "So you're trying to tell me this is part of your cognitive emergence work? Come on, Charlie, do I look like I was born yesterday?"

Charlie opened his mouth to answer, but Millie turned and left the garage. He put the chalk down on the tray of the blackboard, picked up the eraser and started wiping the board clean.

"Charlie!" Alan glowered from the doorway. "What did you say to Millie?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing?! I saw the expression on her face when she came out of this garage... What's that you're erasing?"

"Nothing."

"Amita, Larry, Megan," Alan said, "help me out here. What has my idiot son done this time? And don't say, 'nothing.'"

Charlie's three co-conspirators exchanged guilty glances, but they stood firm against Alan's onslaught. Finally Charlie dropped the eraser back onto the blackboard tray and turned to face his father. "Your idiot son was trying to be helpful," he said softly.

"Helpful? What did you do?"

"I came up with an algorithm to find a woman who would be good for you," Charlie met Alan's angry gaze defiantly.

"The cookout for the called charity was just a ruse, then. The four ladies out there are part of some... some cattle call?"

"Oh, Alan," Larry said, "I wouldn't let the ladies hear you speaking of them that way."

"Larry," Alan growled, "why don't you, Megan and Amita go outside and let me discuss this with Charlie."

"Excellent idea," Megan said, taking Larry's arm. "Come on, Larry, you hate the sight of blood."

"Charles..."

"She's kidding, Larry. Go. I'll be fine. I can run faster than Dad."

Larry and Megan turned to go, but Amita hesitated. "Alan, we were just..."

Charlie touched Amita's cheek gently. "It wasn't 'we.' It was 'me.' You told me it was a dumb idea. Go ahead. Dad and I have to talk about this."

"Amita," Alan said, "don't worry. I'm not planning on doing too much damage."

After Amita left, Alan sat down on the wicker loveseat, folded his arms across his chest, and said, "So, exactly what did you do?"

Fifteen minutes later, Alan and Charlie emerged from the garage. Charlie looked chastened as he sat next to Amita. "What happened?" she asked.

"I took a plea bargain," he murmured.

"A plea bargain?"

"Yes. I have to admit my wrongdoing to everyone involved. I have to apologize to Millie and chair the PhD committee without another complaint."

"That seems only fair," she said, nodding.

"There's more. Dad and Millie are going to plan a romantic evening – dinner, a show, and I have to pay for the whole thing."

"It still doesn't seem too bad," Larry said.

"It gets worse. I have to rent a limousine for them. And I have to drive them on their date."

"Charlie," Megan said, "plea bargains are generally a trade-off. The accused agrees to a level of punishment that is lower than his crime would normally dictate. So far it doesn't sound like much of a bargain. What was your dad going to do to you?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably, and glanced at Alan who was smiling smugly as he watched his younger son. "He was going to have Millie move in with us."

Megan brought her hand up to cover her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle a laugh. Larry chuckled nervously, and Amita giggled.

Alan chose that moment to rise. "Ladies and gentlemen, my son has something he'd like to say."

All eyes turned toward Charlie. He stood, looking like he would rather walk off a cliff than address the group. He gave his father one last pleading glance, then cleared his throat. "I am sorry for... for bringing you all here under false pretenses. I thought I was doing a good thing, but unfortunately, I have done something very wrong, and in the process, I have hurt some feelings." He turned to the four ladies. "I arranged to bring you here to meet my father. The charity does not exist. My father has been seeing someone I ... someone I dislike. So out of purely selfish motives, I decided to find a woman who was more suitable for him. From my calculations, I decided that any of the four of you ladies would get along well with my dad."

Brenda turned to Eva. "Were you in on this?"

Charlie spoke before Eva could answer. "I talked Eva into approaching the three of you with the charity idea. But she was not involved in any way."

Eva shook her head. "I knew what Charlie was doing, and I agreed to play along. I was intrigued to see if he really could quantify the factors that attract people to each other. Of course, I didn't think his idea stood a snowball's chance in hell of succeeding."

"At any rate," Charlie resumed, "this ill-advised plan was my idea from beginning to end. I'm sorry." He turned to Alan, "Is that satisfactory, Dad?"

"Yes," Alan said, smiling. "Now go call Millie."

Charlie sighed and trudged into the house, dialing his cell phone as he walked.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Finch," Charlie began.

"Millie."

"Millie, I am sorry for interfering with your relationship with my father."

"Why, thank you, Charlie. I accept your apology. However, I do find your hostility toward me to be troubling, my friend."

"I admit I should have confronted you directly when I disagreed with your actions," Charlie said. "Instead, I let my anger simmer. You did come in kind of like a bull in a china shop."

"Very true," Charlie could hear the smile in Millie's voice, and braced himself. "But remember what I told your father about what I learned in Antarctica."

"You learned not to waste time."

"That's right. I see so much potential in you and in Dr. Ramanujan, and I hate to see that potential wasted. You're young, brilliant, and you have so much to contribute to our school. But I understand what you mean with your bull in a china shop analogy. And I promise to tone it down just a little bit. I will listen to your objections."

"Thank you," Charlie breathed.

"I'm not guaranteeing I'll act on your objections. Speaking of which, Professor Eppes, I still do expect you to chair the PhD committee."

Charlie opened his mouth to object, then remembered his plea bargain. "I would be happy to chair the committee, Dr... Millie."

When he finished his call to Millie, Charlie grabbed a beer and went back into the yard. The four ladies had left, along with Larry and Megan. Amita and Alan sat, chatting amiably. They both glanced up as Charlie approached.

"How'd it go?" Amita asked.

"It went," Charlie said. "I apologized, and agreed to chair the PhD committee. Millie agreed to tone it down a little, and to listen to our objections to her ideas."

"Good," Alan said. "Don't you feel better now?"

Charlie took a drink of beer, then grinned. "I do now." He glanced at Amita. "You were right. This was a stupid idea."

Amita laughed. "I don't know, Charlie. Debra took your dad aside before she left and gave him her phone number. I hope you can reconstruct your algorithm. You might be able to start a dating service if this whole math genius thing doesn't work out for you."


End file.
